<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>From the Depth of the Spiral by TheArchangelGabriel</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27842941">From the Depth of the Spiral</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArchangelGabriel/pseuds/TheArchangelGabriel'>TheArchangelGabriel</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>M/M, Mention of Eye removal</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 21:15:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>9</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>18,361</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27842941</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheArchangelGabriel/pseuds/TheArchangelGabriel</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Michael had no idea what was going on. He suddenly woke up in the tunnels under the Magnus Institute with no  memories of the past seven years after that fateful trip to Sannikov Land. Watch as he slowly spirals into madness, regaining his memories while strengthening his bond with the Distortion along the way. Can he hide all this from the other Archival Assistants? What will happen when Jon wakes up from his coma? And what does the newly crowned Distortion Avatar, Helen, have to do with all this? Find out what happens and more when we uncover the truth From the Depth of the Spiral.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>24</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>TMA Big Bang 2020</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td>

<p>Art by @Vinegarwaffles on Tumblr</p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table><p>Michael woke up. He took a second to get his bearings, a throbbing headache was the first thing that greeted him. What did he have to drink last night? Wait, he stopped partying when he joined the Magnus Institute, six years ago. He shouldn’t have had anything to drink.</p><p>Michael began to take in his surroundings. It was almost pitch black and he had to wait for his eyes to adjust before he could really see anything. All he saw was a stone tunnel that went on seemingly forever. A stone tunnel? He blinked a couple times, trying to confirm what he was seeing was indeed correct. </p><p>Michael pushed himself up off the ground. It felt… chalky? Sandy? He inspected his hands. It was dirt. He bent down and took a closer look. It was all just dirt. How exactly would he have ended up in a cave? He checked his clothes to see if they might give him any indication of where he was headed. He was wearing a long sleeve blue jumper and black woolen trousers. He didn’t even remember buying this outfit. Who needs heavy winter gear in London? Yes, it got cold; but this outfit indicated that he went to a freezing cold Tundra. Was he kidnapped? That thought got Michael’s heart beating quickly. Kidnapped. Why would someone want to kidnap him? He was just a lowly archival assistant. Michael looked around frantically for a potential kidnapper. He didn’t see anyone. He was all alone. </p><p>Wait, Michael turned towards his left again. There it was, a small faint glimmer of light shining down from the ceiling. Michael walked over to where the light was coming from. There was a ladder leading up to a hatch. He started to smile, he was saved! He quickly climbed the ladder up to the hatch and tried to open it. Locked. Michael should have known it wasn’t going to be that easy.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Martin paced back and forth nervously. He couldn’t believe Jon was in a coma and Tim, Tim was… No, he didn’t want to think about it. They had succeeded, they had stopped the ritual. No more creepy clowns, no more circus, no more end of the world. Everyone was safe, everyone except… Everyone was safe. Elias was locked up and no longer had any control over the Institute. That meant that as soon as Jon woke up everything would be alright. Martin closed his eyes and took a deep breath, attempting to calm his nerves. </p><p><b>Bang!</b> Martin was startled out of his thoughts with a loud sound. What was that? He looked around wildly. <b>Bang! Bang! Bang!</b> There it was again. Was it coming from the tunnels under the Institute, Martin wondered? He got closer to take a look. As the noise started up again, the hatch began to quiver. What could it be? Martin wasn’t sure he wanted to find out. But then as the banging stopped he heard another noise. He got down on his knees and leaned his head against the hatch to listen closer. It wasn’t the most comfortable position but he knew that it was either that or risk letting the thing loose. Was that sobbing he heard? Was whatever down there crying? Martin was very confused. He didn’t think these Horrors had any feelings - let alone could cry. </p><p>Martin took another deep breath this time, attempting to gather his courage. He was going to do it. He was going to open the door. He reached over and turned the key, with a click the door unlocked. He opened the hatch and was greeted with the sight of… Was that Michael?! The blonde hair was right and he was still very tall - but there was something wrong about him, more like there was something right about him? In any case he looked normal. Not like a twisted Avatar of the Distortion should. Normal Michael pulled himself out of the hole and looked around.</p><p>“Wait, I’m at the Magnus Institute?” Normal Michael said. He sounded confused. Martin shared the sentiment. </p><p>“Yeah... where else would you be?” Martin asked hesitantly. He should have grabbed the others.</p><p>“I had no idea there was a whole tunnel system under my place of work. Does Ms. Robinson know about this?” Michael said.</p><p>“Ms. Robinson?” Martin questioned. “Like Gertrude Robinson?”</p><p>“Yes, she’s the Head Archivist. I presume you work here then, or were you here to give a statement?” Michael asked. Martin wasn’t sure what to say. Should he tell this normal Michael that Gertrude hasn’t been head archivist in 2 years?</p><p>“Michael, what’s the last thing you remember?” Martin asked </p><p>“How do you know my name? Have we met?”</p><p>“We have.” Martin confirmed. “But you were a little... out of it... so I was wondering what you remembered.”</p><p>“Whatever I did to you I am so very sorry. Was there a company party? I don’t imagine Mr. Bouchard sponsoring something like that, he really doesn’t seem the type, but whatever the case I am very sorry. I stopped drinking ages ago for this very reason, I cannot hold alcohol whatsoever.” Michael said frantically. Martin chuckled. He couldn’t help it. This was the fear entity that trapped him and Tim in its corridors for days on end? It seemed unfathomable.</p><p>“Water under the bridge.” Martin said with a wave of his hand.</p><p>“So what did happen, exactly? And how did I end up in those tunnels?” Michael asked. </p><p>“It’s a long story, why don’t we talk over a cup of tea.” Martin suggested.</p><p>“Okay - but where are we going to get tea?” Michael wondered.</p><p>“Follow me,” Martin said, waving Michael to follow him. The two headed to the breakroom. </p><p>“Since when have we had tea in the breakroom?” Michael asked looking around bewildered, as if he expected the tea to just appear out of nowhere. Spontaneously appearing tea, now that was a power Martin wished he had. He then went and opened the cupboard to prove to Michael that yes, there was indeed tea. Michael shrugged his shoulders and took a seat at the small table while Martin busied himself making tea. He filled the electric kettle with water and turned it on. What tea should he serve the former Avatar of the Spiral? Martin perused the various teas he had brought from his home, trying to decide. Would Earl Grey work? Or maybe Rasberry? </p><p>“What kind of tea do you like?” Martin asked.</p><p>“What kinds do you have?” Michael said, getting up and standing right next to Martin.  “You have Lemon Ginger? That’s my favorite!” </p><p>Michael reached past Martin to pluck the tea off the shelf. As the former Spiral Avatar’s hand brushed by Martin’s face, he could almost imagine long spindly fingers at the end of it. The same ones that had injured Jon. Martin could feel his heart start to quicken in that now familiar feeling of fear. Even though he was almost positive Michael wasn’t part of the Spiral anymore, it was an almost automatic reaction at this point.</p><p>“You like that?” Martin said with a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “That’s Jon’s least favorite. Well, if I’m being completely honest, the only tea Jon seems to tolerate is Earl Grey.”</p><p>“Wow he’s really missing out.” Michael said with a smile.</p><p>“Yeah,” Martin said, furrowing his brow in a quick burst of surprise before returning the smile. Then the kettle began to whistle, alerting the two that the water was done. Michael grabbed two cups from the cupboard and Martin poured the water into them. Michael added his tea into his cup while Martin picked out his tea. He figured a nice Herbal tea, more specifically Chamomile might calm his nerves a little bit. He took his tea and walked over to the seat opposite the one Michael was sitting in earlier. The two sat down and waited for their teas to steep.</p><p>“So, are you going to tell me why I was under the Institute, who you are, and why there’s suddenly tea in the cupboard when I’m almost positive it wasn’t there yesterday?”  Michael asked.</p><p>“You see, for you yesterday was about 7 years ago. The year is 2017.” Martin explained. Martin watched as Michael’s eyes widened in surprise. He kind of froze up for a second. Martin took a sip of his tea, wincing as the scolding water touched his tongue.</p><p>“No no no, I promise it’s 2010. We just welcomed in the New Decade, the 2010s! Woo hoo! You’re telling me I missed pretty much the entire decade?” </p><p>“That’s an interesting way to look at it, but yeah. Though I wouldn’t say you missed the decade, just that you forgot it.” Martin said. Though it was more like he was fed to an Entity of Fear by an old woman he trusted - but Martin figured it was better to ease Michael into that.</p><p>“I have amnesia. Did I fall into the tunnel and hit my head? Though that means I’ve been working at the Magnus Institute for 13 years. I never really planned to work here this long.”</p><p>“You don’t work here, or at least I don’t think you do? Gah! This is really difficult to explain.” Martin said with a huff. This Michael obviously didn’t know anything about the 14 Entities, Elias’s plots, nothing. He knew nothing.</p><p>“Just start from the beginning.” Michael said calmly, taking a sip of tea. He was actually taking the news that it was 2017 pretty well. Martin took a deep breath.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Michael was shocked he had amnesia. This was an absolutely insane turn of events, though he has to admit it’s better than his earlier theory that he had been kidnapped. He took a sip of his tea, letting the warmth travel through him. </p><p>“Well... you and Gertrude went on a journey to Russia where she sacrificed you to a Fear Entity known as The Spiral- or The Distortion, if you prefer. Then you became the embodiment of said entity. You have been existing as its Avatar for the past 7 years until a real estate agent named Helen kicked you out and took your place.” The man said.</p><p>“Excuse me. Let’s back it up a bit, how could Ms. Robinson sacrifice me to a... what did you say? Fear Entity. She’s just a helpless old lady.” Michael asked. What did that even mean? Was this man saying that some sort of monster made of fear was going around terrorizing people? How would the public not be aware of this? And on top of that he, Michael Shelley, was one of these fear entities. How did that work? Michael certainly didn’t feel like a monster. Then the man began to laugh. Was this some sort of prank? This guy was making fun of him. Michael frowned and crossed his arms. “This isn’t funny.”</p><p>“Sorry,” The man said, quieting down. “I just find it a little amusing that you think Gertrude is a helpless old lady when she ran around for many many years stopping these insane rituals. Trust me if she’s anything, she isn’t helpless.” </p><p>Michael took a moment to digest the information. Maybe the man was being serious. Or he at least believed these fear entities to be true. Michael decided to humour him for the time being.</p><p>“Alright, now that that is out of the way maybe clue me in on what exactly a fear entity is.”</p><p>“So, Robert Smirke came up with a way to categorise all the entities. There are 14, I won’t get into all of them today but I’m sure you’ll hear about them later. The two main ones you’re probably interested in are the Eye and the Spiral. The Eye is the Entity that runs this very Institute, it’s the fear of being watched. Doesn’t that sound like something you want to be unknowingly tied to against your will? The Spiral is the fear of madness. You were its Avatar for the past 7 years. Michael the Distortion. Though Sasha just called you It. We had only found out that Gertrude had sacrificed you to stop the Spiral's ritual later on.” The man said. </p><p>Fourteen Fears? Michael questioned. There were 14 of these things and Michael worked for not one but two of them. Did he work for them? Or was he one of them? He had so many questions. Though there was one thing that’d been nagging on his mind this entire time.</p><p>“What’s your name?”</p><p>“Oh, did I not say? I’m sorry, I’m Martin Blackwood.” He said.</p><p>“Michael Shelley,” Michael responded with an awkward smile “Where do we go from here?”</p><p>“We should probably talk to Peter Lukas and see if you are still technically employed at the Institute.” Martin suggested.</p><p>“How would we do that? Is he in Mr. Bouchard’s office?”</p><p>“Probably not, looks like I’ll have to send him an email.” Martin said with a sigh.</p><p>
  
</p>
<table>
<tbody>
<tr>
<td>

<p>Art by @talking4the1 on Tumblr</p>
</td>
</tr>
</tbody>
</table>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Peter Lukas looked down at the signed work contract in Michael Shelley’s folder. The only other thing in the folder were a couple Performance Reports. No letter of termination or notice of demise. Peter spent two days searching for this folder ever since he got an email from Martin about Michael’s return. Elias kept everything and Peter was not privy to the man’s organization methods.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter stepped out of the elevator and walked until he reached the cell in which Elias was currently being held. He needed answers - and he needed them now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you know?” Peter said, folding his arms in irritation. Elias turned the page on his novel. Where did this man get a book, he’s in prison.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course I did, dear.” Elias said not looking up from his reading. “Are you surprised?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I am surprised his contract was never ended, though.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah; that’s the tricky thing with these contracts, there’s not much that can break them.” Elias explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can’t you just fire him?” Peter shouted, annoyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now why ever would I do that?” Elias asked, turning another page. Peter hated this man. He was the most infuriating person he had ever had the displeasure of talking to. Men like him were exactly the reason he enjoyed being the Avatar of the Lonely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is going to ruin my whole plan! We had a deal, remember?” Peter said with an angry huff.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And in what way am I breaking the deal? I’m still in prison, I didn’t put Mr. Shelley there. You’ll just have to try harder.” Elias said, closing his book and looking at Peter. “Are we done here?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter averted his gaze, feeling unnerved by Elias’s stare. He had always hated eye contact - but being seen by the Watcher was even worse.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“At the very least, tell me why Michael is here?” Peter requested. Elias shrugged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What the Spiral does is none of my business.” He said, looking nonchalant. Peter rolled his eyes and turned to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bye dear, good luck with that little plan of yours.” Elias called as Peter walked away. Peter’s entire body radiated the irritation he felt.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael nervously walked in the direction of the Archives. He was still a little shaken after his run-in with Mr. Lukas. The man had told him to get to work and then disappeared. Just vanished. Michael was surprised, to say the least. After years of therapists telling him that what he saw happen to Ryan wasn’t real, seeing that proof lifted a heavy weight off his shoulders. It left him with a bigger concern though. At any point in time one of these things could attack him. Michael wondered if maybe it would be better to take some self defense classes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As Michael got closer, he heard that there was some sort of argument going on. Were they talking about him? Did they already hate him? It wasn’t like his former colleagues were that friendly with him but he was sure they didn’t hate him. In fact, he knew Ms. Robinson liked him. Or at least, he thought she did. He then realized that simple fact probably wasn’t true. After all, she was technically the reason he was in this mess to begin with. That left a bad taste in his mouth. It seemed like he was destined to be alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You really brought that Monster into your house?” A taut voice said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“He’s not the Distortion anymore, Basira. He’s just someone down on his luck that needs help.” Martin argued back. He was right, they were talking about him. He nervously began fidgeting with the sleeves on his blue jumper. Martin had been kind enough to give him some pajamas while his clothes were in the wash last night. The outfit was still pretty warm for the current weather - but the Archives ran on the colder side, so it wasn’t too bad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How do you know for sure he’s not going to go back to working for the Spiral one day? Weren’t you the one who said once you became an Avatar, you could never come back?” Basira responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was wrong, okay. I’m allowed to be wrong every now and again. I’m only human.” Martin said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“More than I can say for your boyfriend.” Basira said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Michael is not my boyfriend.” Martin responded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was talking about Jon.” Basira clarified. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Martin said. Michael decided that was his cue to enter. He saw Martin standing and talking to a woman with dark skin. She was wearing a dark red hijab, a grey long sleeve shirt, and black trousers. That must have been Basira. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin’s face was a bright red. Michael smiled softly at that. Martin obviously had a thing for the Head Archivist. He noticed Michael standing there and smiled as if the conversation had never happened. “There you are. I see Peter didn’t keep you very long.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I could tell that us just being in the same room made Mr. Lukas uncomfortable.” Michael said, walking over to the two of them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I could see that. He is the Avatar of the Lonely after all.” Martin said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can all Avatars just disappear like that?” Michael inquired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, I think that’s a power only the Lonely has.” Martin replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmm,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Anyway, this is Basira.” Martin said, confirming what Michael had already thought.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If you try anything, you’re going to have to answer to me.” Basira warned Michael. He nodded his head, his eyes wide in fear. He did not want to get on her bad side.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright, moving on,” Martin said, leading Michael over to another woman who had a bob of brown hair including bangs wearing a grey hoodie that had a ghost drawing on it and grey tracksuit bottoms to match. She was sitting at a computer desk typing something. “This is Melanie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>She looked up briefly at her name noticing Michael standing there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t care what you do, just stay out of my way.” She said, pulling the headphones over her head. Michael glanced at the screen and noticed that she was watching a cat video. They still had those in 2017?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you already know me. That’s all of us.” Martin said, his voice sounding sad.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” Michael asked, concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing,” Martin said too quickly. “Why would anything be wrong?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Michael said, a little uncomfortable. “You just sounded upset. I wanted to see if everything was alright.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t say everything’s alright, but I’m working through it.” Martin said with a sigh. Michael wanted to ask what happened, but resisted. He could tell this was a touchy topic for Martin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,”Michael said with a nod of his head. He wasn’t going to pry. Martin gave him a weak smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael surveyed the room.  There were six desks, each with its own computer in the center of the room. The computers looked newer and nicer than when Michael had worked there last. Michael was thankful that Elias had finally gotten new ones. He swore the old ones had to have come from the 90s. They had been a pain to use. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Melanie was sitting at the desk at the far end. Basira had walked over to the desk next to her. The last desk on the right side was covered in pictures and a couple nicknacks. A cup of tea sat on a little coaster. It was half empty. One of the pictures was Martin with three friends sitting at what Michael believed was the Ice Cream Parlor not far from the Institute. One of the people looked very familiar. Michael picked up the picture to get a closer look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That was my birthday party almost 2 years ago.” Martin said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who’s this?” Michael asked, pointing to the friend on the far left side. “They look familiar.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s Sasha, you’ve met her before actually. But you were part of the Distortion at the time. Interesting that she’d look familiar.” Martin said thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, she’s the one you said called me It. How did we meet?” Michael asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She used to be an archival assistant before…” Martin trailed off and his voice sounded strained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I didn’t kill her did I?” Michael said horrified. Basira had said he was a monster. Could he really have killed someone?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no,” Martin said a bit frantic. “She was killed by the Stranger. I actually think you were rather fond of her.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry for your loss.” Michael consoled. Martin gave him a sad smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you. Truth is, everyone in that picture is gone now. I’m the only one left.” Martin said. Michael started to get goosebumps and shivered as a chill passed through him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did the other two die?” Michael said looking up to meet Martin’s eye. The man had a haunted look in his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Stranger, though Jon’s not dead technically.” Martin said. His voice sounded distant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Michael said, a lump forming in his throat. He didn’t know what to say to that. He set the picture back down on Martin’s desk. Martin jumped at the sound before clearing his throat.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can sit across from me.” He said gesturing to the seat. Michael nodded. He walked over to his seat, trying to shake off the solemn feeling from their conversation. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael sat down. The first thing he noticed was that the chair was set far too high. Michael was looking right over the computer directly at Martin who quirked an eyebrow at him. Michael felt embarrassed. He quickly fumbled with the seat adjuster and set it down to a much more reasonable height. Now it was time for work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael checked the clock, seeing it was already half-past 10. He could hear Martin snoring from the room over. Michael snuggled into the couch, trying to get comfortable. The couch was springy and hard. Michael tossed and turned, attempting to find a spot in which he felt the least amount of pain. After a while he finally settled into an uneasy sleep.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Suddenly Michael was no longer laying on a couch in Martin’s living room;nstead he was standing in a long hallway. There were no windows and the sparkly lime green walls were covered in paintings, photos and mirrors. Lamps were placed on the ground every couple of feet. The floor was carpeted with a contradictory rug over the top. Who puts a rug on top of a carpet? None of the colors in the entire hallway matched. It was a mess.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Hello, Michael.” A voice said and Michael turned to see well… himself? But something was off with this other version of him. It was thin, a lot thinner than any human should be, it had pointed hands, its curly hair defied gravity and its smile was wider than its face. It was wearing a shirt made from the fabric found at bowling alleys and bright yellow trousers that hurt Michael’s eyes. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Who are you?” Michael asked. It rolled its eyes.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Not this again. Who are you? Who are you? Nobody asks how are you?” It said.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“What?” Michael exclaimed.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Did you really think you could get rid of me so easily? You are me, Michael. On the day of the Great Twisting you became me and there’s no going back from the unbecoming. But keep playing your little game. It's quite fun to watch.” It said with a laugh that gave Michael a headache. This thing wasn’t making any sense. Michael wasn’t playing any games, he was just living. This thing couldn’t be him, it wasn’t right. At that exact moment a bout of queasiness brought Michael to his knees and then he was overcome with this unearthly pain - the worst thing he had ever felt in his life.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>With a scream, Michael woke up. Michael looked himself over as if trying to find some hidden injury, but he was fine - just fine. It was just a nightmare. Michael sighed in relief. Martin slammed open his door and came rushing out in alarm, looking disheveled and holding a hatchet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s wrong?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Nothing, I just had a nightmare.” Michael said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Martin set down the hatchet. “What was the dream about?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Would you believe me if I said it was about a Hallway? And agonizing pain.” Michael spoke holding his head. He could feel a pounding headache starting up, although it was nowhere near the pain he felt earlier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You dreamed of Sanikovland?” Martin said, sounding a little worried. Michael suddenly got a flash of memory.  Ms. Robinson was telling him they were going on a trip to Zemlya Sannikova. He hadn’t thought anything of it. They were always going on trips like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess I’m getting my memories back.” Michael speculated. Martin looked a little concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think that’s a good thing.” Martin said. Michael had to agree with that. “In any case, we were going to go shopping today and if we’re both up we might as well get the day started.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael nodded his head. He looked down at his hands and noticed that the blanket looked a little off - almost like it was warped. Michael figured it was just a trick of the light and got up to get ready for the day.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Michael was pretty sure that this shirt did not have a pattern on it. He specifically remembered it being white when he bought it four months ago. So why now did it have a bunch of green triangles on it. Where did those come from? Was Martin playing a prank on him? Randomly putting triangles on his shirt was kind of a lame prank. He hung the shirt up and put it back in the closet. He would just wear one of his other shirts. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Michael, come on - we’re going to be late for work.” Martin shouted from the living room. Michael was standing in the man’s bedroom, looking at his tiny portion of the closet.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay.” Michael shouted back before resuming his quest for a wearable shirt. He found nothing. Where were all his shirts? They were just gone? Maybe they were in the wash? He’d have to ask Martin about that. He sighed and pulled the offending article of clothing out of the closet and put it on. It looked even stranger on him then it did on the hanger. He spotted his navy jumper and pulled that on over it. There, he thought, no one would notice said triangles. Satisfied, Michael left the house with Martin, ready for a great day in the Archives.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Why was it so hot? Michael thought, fanning himself with a statement. It was usually freezing in the Archives, not to mention the temperature outside. So why today of all days did it feel like his insides were boiling?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does it seem hot in here to you?” Michael asked, turning towards Melanie. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hot? Are you crazy? I’m freezing.” Melanie said, tucking her legs into her sweatshirt. She mumbled something Michael couldn’t hear before turning back to her Youtube video. Michael was a little confused. Was he getting sick? No, he thought, usually you get really cold when you're sick. Maybe Melanie was the ill one and it was just that hot in the Archives today. Michael wanted to ask Martin, but he was off doing something for Mr. Lukas. Basira, the only other person Michael could ask, was in the breakroom. She was very clear that she did not want to be disturbed. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin suddenly ran into the room looking alarmed and out of breath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We have to go!” He said in between gasps of air.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s going on?” Michael asked, jumping up from his chair. Martin ran over and grabbed Michael’s hand.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now,” Martin said before dragging him towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh sacks of meat?” A gruff voice called in an almost sing-song tone. Michael could hear loud footsteps coming in their direction. Martin stopped in his tracks and quickly ran over to the door to the Archivist’s office, dragging Michael with him. He fumbled with his keys trying to get it unlocked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on, come on,” He said, getting increasingly more panicked. Suddenly a creature of impeccable size and numerous limbs appeared through the door Martin had just come through.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are,” It growled. Martin opened the door and he and Michael ran through. Martin slammed the door closed quickly and locked it back up. He also drew the blinds closed so no one and nothing could see in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about Melanie?” Michael asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh she is very capable of taking care of herself. The two of us on the other hand, not so much.” Martin said leaning against the desk. “Come on, let’s hide behind Jon’s desk and hope that thing hadn’t noticed us.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The two sat behind the desk. Martin was still breathing heavy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was that thing?” Michael asked. Martin held up one finger, signaling for him to wait. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>After Martin got his bearings back, he said “That was Jared Hopworth, emphasis on the was. He got a hold of a Leitner and decided his dream was to be a giant meat monster.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So he’s an Avatar of the Flesh?” Michael asked for clarification. Martin nodded. “Hmm, I’m starting to think maybe I got lucky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin laughed at that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see where you’re coming from but you wouldn’t want to meet Distortion Michael in a dark alley.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re probably right.” Michael conceded. The heat was starting to get unbearable. Enough was enough, he thought, and proceeded to take off his jumper. That was better. Michael looked over at Martin to see if he had noticed the green triangles on Michael’s shirt. Martin wasn’t paying attention and Michael was oddly relieved.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> He looked down at the triangles and took note of the way they went up and down and across. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Up and down and across. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Up and down and across.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Up and down and across.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Michael?” Martin shouted and Michael looked up attempting to clear his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ve been sitting in here for a while, so I was just wondering if you thought it might be safe enough to leave yet. You seem to have spaced out, are you okay?” Martin asked, looking concerned. Had Michael really been staring at his shirt that long?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh yeah, let’s do that.” Michael agreed. Martin took a beat to look at him quizzically before getting up and heading for the door. He followed. Martin opened the blinds. Melanie and Basira were just sitting at their desks as if nothing had happened. The only evidence that there was an attack at all was the blood coating the walls and floor that a random janitor was trying fruitlessly to clean.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess we can go out now.” Martin said unlocking and opening the door. The two left the Archivist’s office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So that’s where you guys were. We were going to tell you the attack was over, but we couldn’t find you. I guess you were hiding pretty good.” Basira said with a shrug.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were just in Jon’s office. Melanie saw us go in there.” Martin said. He sounded pretty annoyed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wasn’t really paying attention to you and your little Spiral pal, too busy killing flesh monsters. Your welcome by the way.” Melanie said. Michael could tell that Martin was getting frustrated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How about we go make some tea?” Michael suggested. Martin looked at him and smiled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” He said. Martin headed towards the breakroom and Michael went to follow him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hold on Michael.” Basira said and Michael turned back around. “I just wanted to warn you that Helen is here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Helen?” Michael said, trying to remember who that was. “The woman that took my place as the Distortion?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, she captured Jared Hopworth in her hallways.” Basira said. Michael got a flash of those green walls and wildly colored floors. Those used to be his hallways. He wondered if she had rearranged things. She was a real estate agent after all. Had she repainted his walls? Torn out his carpet? Michael felt tears threaten to fall. It shouldn’t matter what she did. Why did he care this much?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And she’s still here?” He asked, blinking his eyes quickly to hold the tears back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She said she was going to hang out in the tunnels in case we needed her.” Basira said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thanks for the warning.” Michael said before heading towards the breakroom. He would make sure to avoid the tunnels, not that he was keen to head down there anyway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helen walked up to the giant 4 story house. 7707 was written next to the door in gold lettering. Although the numbers could also be 6709 or 9607, depending on the angle in which it was viewed. There was no street name, for the street in which this house found itself on did not actually exist. It was Helen’s own personal creation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helen felt a buzz coming from her phone. She pulled it out of her pocket to see that it was flashing various shades of red and purple. Her first client of the day was calling. She waited til the last second to answer it, giving the client time to wonder if Helen was going to answer at all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello, Ms. Smith. Are you making it to the house alright?” Helen asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ms. Richardson! I think I’m lost. The street sign looks like someone just key smashed a bunch of letters. I have no idea where I am.” The woman said, fear evident in her voice. Helen laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re almost here. Just take two rights and a left and you’ll reach the house. I’m standing outside.” Helen said warmly although she doubted it seemed that way to Ms. Smith.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Ms. Smith said, and Helen hung up the phone without even a goodbye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ms. Smith’s car pulled into the driveway and she stepped out of the car, stumbling a bit. She looked very disoriented. Certainly a great start to the upcoming tour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The street was straight, how did I take a right?” Ms. Smith said. “There were no turns, no rights to take so how did I? How did I get here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re late Ms. Smith, I told you to be here an hour ago.” Helen said, shaking her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m what?” Ms. Smith asked, confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose I can still squeeze you in for a tour, if you’re still interested.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course!” Ms. Smith said immediately. Helen gave her a smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well then, follow me.” Helen said, leading the woman into the house. In the foyer there is a staircase leading up and two doors. The foyer was very small and barely fit both Helen and Ms. Smith. “Let’s head upstairs first.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helen lead Ms. Smith up two flights of stairs before stopping as the stairs continued into the ceiling.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there some sort of hatch in the ceiling that leads to the second floor?” Ms. Smith asked. Helen gave her a wide smile.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the second floor.” Helen replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s nothing here.” Ms. Smith said, looking around wildly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you ready to move onto the kitchen?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose,” Ms. Smith said unsure. Helen headed back down the stairs. She opened the door on the left. It led to a straight drop off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is the kitchen. As you can see the previous owners did some remodeling to keep this old house up to date.” Helen said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re on the first floor!” Ms. Smith exclaimed. “How is this possible?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The previous owners were the real deal when it came to house flipping. They put a lot of working into this place.” Helen’s smile widened. “Are you ready to head to the living room?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Ms. Smith said, radiating that sweet, sweet fear. Helen wanted to drink it all in, but the fun wasn’t over yet. Helen turned towards the left door. She opened it to reveal a perfectly ordinary living room. The couches were a shade of dull brown, the coffee table made of oak wood, the walls a lovely egg shell, with matching curtains covering a large window. A fireplace sat unused in the far right corner. The purple chairs being the only splash of bright color - that and the strange blue glow coming from the windows.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The fireplace will be nice in the winter, and you have a lovely view of the ocean.” Helen said walking over to the curtains. She drew them back slowly reveling in the look of horror that spread across Ms. Smith’s face. A shark swam past the window, not paying any mind to the peculiar house that laid on the bottom of the ocean. Ms. Smith ran to the door, frantically trying to open it. It was locked, of course.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me out!” Ms. Smith shrieked, banging on the door..</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Leaving so soon?” Helen asked with a pout. “You haven’t even seen the best part. The walk in closet in the master bedroom is to die for.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Please let me go, please Ms. Richardson.” Ms. Smith begged.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As you wish.” Helen said, opening the door for her client. Ms. Smith ran through, not noticing that she was running into a long hallway with purple walls and stone laminate flooring. Helen closed the door behind her meal. She was sad that Ms. Smith hadn’t finished the tour but hoped that Mr. Clancy would last a little longer.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jon looked around his office, frustrated. He flipped through a couple papers trying to find a statement, but came up empty handed. All of his belongings were missing. He couldn’t even find a pen, the jar on his desk unusually empty. He couldn’t believe they had rearranged his office while he had been out of commission. He heard a knock at the door and looked up. He saw a tall shadow from beyond the door. Who could that be? None of his assistants were that tall, unless they had grown in the last six months. It could only be one person.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come in,” Jon said. They had warned him that Michael was back - but there was nothing quite like seeing it for himself. He looked so ordinary, so normal; but there was still something about him Jon couldn’t place. A whisper of the Spiral still shrouded Michael. His curls just slightly too curly, his fingers just slightly too long. Nothing noticeable at a glance, but the Archivist could See it. Michael fidgeted with his jumper nervously. Who knows how long the two had been standing in complete silence as Jon inspected the former Avatar before him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael spoke finally with a nervous looking smile. “Well, hello, I’m Michael - though I guess you already know that. Martin’s told me all about you. It’s nice to finally officially meet you, Archivist.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nice to meet you too, Michael. You can just call me Jon. Do you think you could help me for a second?” Jon asked, setting down the random papers he had been holding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Of course! After all, I am an archival assistant and you are the Archivist.” Michael said, relieved. Jon sighed at Michael’s words. He was the Archivist. If not before then certainly now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Could you get me a couple statements and a pen too, please?” Jon requested. Just then the door burst open and Melanie stalked into the room, knocking Michael to the floor.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I need to talk to Jon.” She announced. Michael got up and brushed himself off. Jon stared at her in confusion. He was certainly happy to see her alive and well, or at least alive. He wasn't sure ‘well’ was the right term for her at the moment. She glared at Michael. “Alone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” Michael said, his voice coloured with worry. “I’ll just go get those statements for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that, Michael ran out of the room and Melanie turned her gaze back towards Jon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t forget the pen.” Jon called after him. “Now what did you- ack.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon narrowly missed getting hit by the door stopper. This was shaping up to be a great conversation</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael knocked on the door to Jon’s office hesitantly. Basira had just gone in there and closed the door a couple minutes ago. Would it be alright for Michael to intrude?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s alright if you come in Michael.” Basira called. “Just close the door behind you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael did exactly that. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Did you bring what I asked?” Jon asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I did,” Michael said presenting Jon the items he requested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Good, good.” Jon said, setting the statement on the desk. “Feel free to sit, both of you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I’ll stand, thank you.” Basira said. Michael sat down, Jon smiled at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We were just talking about Melanie, did you hear that she attacked me?” Jon asked. The question was obviously directed at Michael but Jon wasn’t taking his eyes off Basira.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, but I suppose I’m not really surprised.” Michael said honestly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Basira said, turning her stare to Michael. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well she’s been getting more and more aggressive these past couple of months, haven’t you noticed?” Michael said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She needs help, Basira.” Jon clarified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright just back off, you haven’t been here.” Basira said defensively.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No but Michael has and I trust what he says.” Jon said with a smirk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You only believe him because he agrees with you.” Basira claimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not true.” Jon defended.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you,” She said, turning back towards Michael. “Melanie saved your life in December. She saved all of our lives, how could you just ignore that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I-” Michael said, trying to come up with a reason that might placate Basira.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, what happened?” Jon asked with a frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There was an attack two months ago. It was the flesh.” Basira said tersely, not giving away any details. Michael shivered remembering what exactly happened. He couldn’t get that thing out of his head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It was Jared Hopworth. I can’t believe that thing is in my hallways.” Michael spoke with a grimace.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What did you say?” Jon asked, giving Michael a calculated look. Michael’s eyes widened, realizing exactly what he said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Er- well... Helen managed to capture Jared and he’s currently in… her hallways.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael was having a hard time specifying that Helen owned the hallways. He didn’t know why it was so difficult to admit he wasn’t the Distortion anymore. It hadn’t been this hard even just three months ago. But he remembered more now. Remembered more of when he was the embodiment of Delusion. He didn’t miss it, he told himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s terrible, I’m sorry that happened.” Jon said, but he still narrowed his eyes mistrustfully. It seemed like Jon was not going to forget Michael’s earlier slip up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well Martin and I managed to hide, so Basira and Melanie did all the hard work.” Michael said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How has Martin been while I’ve been away?” Jon asked, mercifully changing the subject. He had obviously tried to sound casual, but Michael could tell he was eager to hear the answer. Or maybe Michael was projecting his wish for Martin’s crush to not be one-sided onto Jon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin’s fine. Mr. Lukas has had him reading some statements in secret, but he’s been careful about not falling for Mr. Lukas’s tricks.” Michael explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin and Michael are the only ones who have met the elusive successor of Elias.” Basira said accusatorily.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I only met him once. He was very odd. It was my first encounter with any of the fears, even though I know I used to be one. I had no memory of that, so I don’t think it counted.” Michael pondered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah interesting, my first encounter with a fear Avatar was Jane Prentiss, a lady made of worms.” Jon recounted. Michael’s stomach dropped at the mental image of that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Brilliant,” Michael said, giving a thumbs up. Jon chuckled lightly before stopping abruptly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well I suppose technically Elias was my first encounter with a fear avatar. That’s so strange to think about.” Jon frowned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose that’s true for me too.” Michael said. There was a lull in the conversation as Michael thought on the fact that he was hired by a literal monster.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well while this has been a very informative conversation, I’m going to be off. I’ve got more important things to do.” Basira said leaving the room not even bothering to close the door behind her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’re not done talking about Melanie.” Jon shouted at her but she was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, I suppose I got us a little off track.” Michael said, but Jon was staring intensely at something on the desk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How long has that been on?” Jon asked. Michael took a closer look at what the Archivist was staring at.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that a tape recorder?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It is.” Jon confirmed. “I suppose it’s hungry.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huh?” Michael was confused. Why was a tape recorder here? What did he mean by Hungry?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The tape recorders like to record everything. They’re an extension of the Eye. They usually record encounters with various fears whether they’re happening right that second or second hand. Unless an Avatar is about to walk through that door, I assume it wants me to read this statement.” Jon said, picking up the statement Michael brought him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Michael said awkwardly. “I suppose I’ll just leave you to that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you for bringing me these items, Michael.” Jon said, smiling at him. Michael smiled back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.” He said before turning and heading out the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Statement of Angie Santos, regarding a website developed by one Gregory Cox. Original statement given 1st August, 2015. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, The Archivist. Statement begins…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After a long day of attempting, and failing, to avoid Jon’s scrutiny, Michael was getting ready for bed. He pulled his pajamas out of the closet. They were green with pink triangles on them. He got dressed and sat back onto his bed. The comforter was an atrocious shade of orange, there seemed to be a pattern on it - but Michael didn’t have the words to explain it. The only thing that came to mind was the sad turkey that sat on Bob Cratchit's table in the classic play A Christmas Carol. The walls and floor were reminiscent of those found in his old hallways. He knew at one point in time he had had a ceiling light, but it was long gone now. If Michael tried to focus on where the light was coming from, he thought it might be the left corner - but when he looked in the left corner, the light was suddenly on the right. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael heaved a great sigh, dragging his hands down his face. These changes hadn’t been immediate but had slowly emerged over the course of the last seven months. It started with his clothes, every couple of weeks he had to buy new trousers. For some reason his navy jumper and his shoes weren’t affected by the changes. Everyday when Michael went into work he feared that one of the articles of clothing in his outfit was going to change and give him away. He was lucky that Martin never came into his room since they got a joint flat two months ago.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ding Dong Darling,” A feminine voice said. Michael was startled out of his thoughts. He began to look around wildly for the source. “Behind you dear.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael turned around but still saw nothing. When he turned back around, he was shocked to see Helen right in his face. He scrambled back and ended up falling off the bed. He thought his bed was bigger than that. He shouldn’t have been able to fall off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s no way to greet a guest.” Helen said, taking a seat on Michael’s bed, crossing her legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you even get in?” Michael said standing up and dusting himself off.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That door.” Helen said, pointing with her long pointy fingers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The closet?” Michael asked, confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Next to the closet.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There’s not a-” Michael stopped talking, seeing she was right. There was a purple door right next to the closet door. He felt himself drawn to it immediately. He took a couple tentative steps, bumping into the bed. He glared at it, unhappy to be stopped in his quest to reach the door. He walked around it, his movements more determined. “Does this lead to where I think it does?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Helen said, softly. Michael reached his hand out to touch the doorknob. He pulled back a little suddenly, getting a flash of memory. This door had betrayed him. It had locked him out and forced Helen to take his place. He turned to glare at her but it was only greeted with a smile. He turned back, gripped the door handle and ripped the door open. “Welcome home, Michael.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly Helen was right beside him, ushering for him to enter the hallway with a smile and a wave of her hand. Did Michael really want to go in? He had a feeling that if he did, there was no going back. Though this place was known for its lies. Then he remembered exactly why he wanted to enter his hallways on his last day as the Distortion. He had been trying to kill Jon. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go back to being something that could kill an innocent person with no thought. Sure that other Michael had a reason, but it was so warped and well distorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael looked over at Helen and she gave him a sad smile. It looked so awkward on her strange face. He was technically the reason she was like that. He could remember the day he showed up at her Open House and ruined her life. From what Michael could remember, she had been a kind woman and she had managed to escape the hallways. That required skill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can see you’re not ready yet.” She sighed and gave him a kiss on his head. It felt strange, as if he had just been struck by lightning; but not in a bad way. “Your home will be waiting for you, brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And then she was gone. Michael was left alone staring at a blank wall. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>Knock Knock</b>
</p><p>
  <span>“Everything okay in there, Michael? I thought I heard another voice. It’s fine if you have friends over, but I’d really like a heads up.” Martin called from outside the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Michael called back, swallowing a lump in his throat. “Just watching TV on my phone.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was a lie of course. Michael was a liar. And he always would be.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Michael was sitting at his desk cataloguing certain statements per the Archivist’s request. The Archival Assistants had seen an influx of work ever since Jon had returned. Michael was honestly glad for it. The work had allowed him to distract himself from his ever increasing Spiral abilities, though they had made the actual work harder. Michael was one of the only ones actually doing the work the Archivist assigned though, so it wasn’t like Jon could complain about his speed.</p><p>Michael looked around and saw he was all alone again today. Recently Basira and Melanie had made themselves scarce and Martin kept getting called off to do special assignments by Mr. Lukas. Whatever he was asked to do was really wearing Martin out. When they went back to their shared flat, he just went to his room and fell asleep. They rarely had dinner together anymore. He then noticed one of the statement titles had turned into nonsense. He rewrote it and watched to see if it would change again. It did not. He scrolled back up and fixed any other Spiral changes.</p><p>“Come with me,” A familiar voice said. Michael looked up from his work. Was that Melanie? Sure enough, Melanie walked out of Jon’s office with the Archivist trailing behind her. When did she come in? Where were they going? Michael made an impulsive decision to follow them. It had to be something important for Melanie to actually come into work.</p><p>Michael watched as the duo made their way down into the tunnels. That’s where Helen was supposedly lurking. Are they going to see her and ask about him? He didn’t exactly want to face her again after she appeared in his room last month. Michael made up his mind and carefully followed them down into the tunnels.</p><p>It was really dark. The only light came from a bright purple door. Jon had already gone inside presumably to speak with Helen, while Melanie sat outside playing on her phone. Michael held back the urge to sigh. This mission was a complete bust if he couldn’t hear what they were talking about. He was about to turn around and head back up when the door suddenly opened. Michael panicked, looking for a place to hide. There was nothing but a wide open cave. He found the darkest part of the cave and attempted to blend in with the wall. Hopefully his dark jumper and trousers would help him. He glanced down at his outfit and took a deep breath, holding in his annoyance. His jumper, his beautiful jumper was now a bright lime green colour. His trousers remained the same dark grey they were when he put them on this morning - but nothing could hide the atrocious colouring of his poor jumper. </p><p>Michael glanced back up just as Helen walked through the door, carrying an unmoving Jon. Was he dead? Michael felt his heartbeat quicken. Did Melanie just get Helen to murder Jon? Michael knew they didn’t get on, but that was inconceivable. She dropped Jon’s body on the floor before dusting her hands off.</p><p>“Still alive?” Melanie asked, crouching to look at the body.</p><p>“Seems to be, yes.” Helen replied, though she did nothing to actually check that. “What’s the bone for?”</p><p>“Said it was going to be an anchor.” Melanie replied. She stood up, seemingly satisfied with her surveyance of Jon. Michael breathed a sigh of relief - Jon was likely still alive.</p><p>“Hmm. Bodies are strange. Rather glad they’re not my concern anymore.” Helen said.</p><p>“Must be nice.” Melanie lamented. </p><p>“It really is.” Helen confirmed.</p><p>“Did you let that… thing go?” Melanie questioned.</p><p>“He found a door.” Helen said casually.</p><p>Melanie tensed up. “Where did he come out?”  </p><p>“The door may have been in a wall some distance above a river.” Helen smiled cruelly. Melanie chuckled.</p><p>“Nice,”</p><p>Jon began to move, letting out a loud groan. “Is it- um…”</p><p>“All done.” Helen said. Jon stands up slowly, looking unsteady. Neither Melanie nor Helen move to help him.</p><p>“Thank you. For your...uh. For your help.” Jon said, giving her an obviously pained grin. </p><p>“No thank you. Consider it a payment for all the help you’re giving me.” Helen said. Jon looked at her quizzically. Michael’s eyes widened. Was this it? Was she about to give him away?</p><p>“Basira’s not going to be happy that you let him out.” Melanie said, crossing her arms. Michael was thankful for her change in subject.</p><p>“Basira isn’t here. And if this works, I’ll have Daisy waiting for her when she gets back, so I don’t think she’ll be worrying too much about Jared.” Jon replied. Michael frowned in confusion. Wait, Jared Hopworth was released? The giant terrifying bone man? Why’d they let that thing go? Something about getting Daisy back. Martin had told Michael a little about Daisy, though he was having a hard time remembering exactly what. He was sure she was dead though. Were they trying to resurrect their dead friend? What was going on?</p><p> “Are you going to get Daisy now?” Melanie asked. Jon laughed but it sounded painful. </p><p>“No. No, now I am going for a lie down. That was… that was not what I expected.” Jon spoke in between harsh breaths. </p><p>“Come on, you can use Basira’s cot.” Melanie said, helping Jon over to the ladder. </p><p>“Good luck, Archivist. Be seeing you.” Helen called after them. With that, Jon and Melanie were gone. And yet Helen still wasn’t returning to the door. “Come out, Michael.”</p><p>Michael was shocked.</p><p>“How did you know?” Michael asked, stepping into the light of the open door.</p><p>“In that outfit, I’m surprised the Archivist didn’t spot you immediately.” Helen said with a laugh. Michael blushed, embarrassed. He glanced at the clothes in question, noticing to his dismay that his trousers had turned the same colour as the jumper. </p><p>“What do you want from me?” Michael questioned.</p><p>“I just wanted to check on your progress.” Helen said, looking Michael up and down. She suddenly grabbed one of his hands. “How do your fingers feel? Do they hurt at all?”</p><p>“They’re fine.” Michael said, pulling out of Helen’s grip. As he said that, his entire hand started to throb. She smirked as if she knew.</p><p>"Good, good. I don't suspect it'll be much longer now." Helen said. "How are the nightmares?"</p><p>"You know as well as I do that they aren't really nightmares, they're memories." Michael spoke in little above a whisper. Last night's memory had involved him hurting Jon with his long spindly fingers. The same ones Helen had. Michael knew he would grow them back soon and there was nothing he could do to stop it. It was hopeless.</p><p>"Why are you doing this?" Michael exclaimed in distress. He got spat out of the Distortion only to be sucked right back in. What was the point of all this?</p><p>"You belong to me. I couldn't exactly get rid of you, thanks to those failsafes Gertrude put in. But I could at least diminish your abilities while you come to terms with your new life. And now you won't be attempting to murder our dear Archivist. I need him alive to complete my plan." Helen said. He looked at Helen wearily. Whatever the Distortion was planning it wouldn't be good. "Don't give me that look. Once you're ready you'll know the plan and I'm sure you'll agree it's a pretty good one."</p><p>"Whatever you're planning I'm sure the Archivist will stop you." Michael threatened. Helen laughed.</p><p>"He’s been so distracted that he hasn't even Seen you nor your poor attempt at hiding yourself so I doubt he'll realize anything is amiss until it's far far too late. No, he has too much on his plate at the moment, far too busy saving the world to do anything about little ol' me." Helen said, smirking.</p><p>"Well then... I'll just tell him what's going on." Michael said.</p><p>"He'll hate you," Helen threatened, her eyes half lidded as if she was a hunter observing her prey. "You’ve hurt him, you hurt his friends, you tried to kill them. If you tell him you're turning back into Michael the Distortion, well, you can kiss your friendship with him or anyone at the Institute goodbye. You're a monster Michael, just like me. Or at least that's what they'll call you."</p><p>"No!" Michael cried in anguish. That's what he was afraid of. Losing Martin and his tentative friendship with Jon. Losing this new life he had created for himself. He already knew he was going to lose it eventually. Did he really want to speed up the process? Or maybe he could keep it a secret and enjoy the last... months? weeks?...he had left. But Helen's plan, what if that put his friends in danger? The world in danger? Could he really take that risk?</p><p>"Just think it over darling, I know you'll make the right choice." Helen said. Then she was gone.</p><p>~~~</p><p>Martin paced Jon's office, waiting for him to return. Jon had been gone for three days. He had gone into the Buried on a suicidal mission to save Daisy. Jon had just gotten back, Martin couldn't stand the thought of losing him again. So here he was - pacing, waiting. While Michael sat nearby keeping him company.</p><p>"I had no idea this was what he was going to do when he went to see Helen." Michael said. Martin stopped pacing and looked at him quizzically.</p><p>"How do you know he went to see Helen?" Martin asked.</p><p>"Well- I… Jon and Melanie were acting kind of suspicious, so I followed them and saw them go down into the tunnels. Figured that must be what they did." Michael said. Martin nodded his head, not really paying attention.</p><p>
  <b>Creak…</b>
</p><p>Martin's head shot over to the coffin. It was opening, really opening. Jon and Daisy actually made it out of there. He ran over and helped them out of the coffin. Martin couldn't believe Jon had actually done it. They were both kneeling on the rug, coughing up a storm.</p><p>"Michael, go get them some water." Martin ordered.</p><p>"On it!"</p><p>"Are you alright, Jon?" Martin asked, concerned.</p><p>"I'll be fine, thank you Martin." Jon said though his voice was hoarse and scratchy. He looked up into Martin's eyes and Martin was surprised to see that they were full of warmth and caring. Martin swallowed a lump in his throat.</p><p>"Anytime," he said. Then Michael was back with the waters. Jon stood up, taking his glass. He chugged the entire thing in one gulp. Daisy stayed on the ground, slowly sipping hers in between laboured breaths</p><p>"Why don't I take Miss Daisy to get some rest and leave you two to talk." Michael said, helping Daisy out of the room. Jon took a few slow deep breaths before returning his attention to Martin.</p><p>"I haven't seen you much since I woke up from my coma. Are you doing well?" He asked. He seemed more awkward than usual, which threw Martin off.</p><p>"I'm okay, just been busy with assignments for Peter." Martin replied.</p><p>"Well... thank you for being here today, it really means a lot to me." Jon admitted. He sounded honest. Martin was taken aback. He was sure Jon never liked him.</p><p>"You're welcome, I suppose." Martin said. He wasn’t sure how to interact with this version of Jon. Was he sick? Did something happen down in the Buried? It didn't make any sense. "Why don't I go make us some tea."</p><p>Jon gave him a half smile, seeming amused by Martin’s suggestion. "Alright."</p><p>Martin turned around intending to leave the room.</p><p>"Hey Martin?" Jon called out to him.</p><p>"Yeah?" Martin called back, turning around.</p><p>"Would you like to go get dinner with me sometime?" Jon asked. Martin's mind started racing a mile a minute. Was this a date? Why would Jon ask this? Why now? But one question seemed to come up again and again. What had happened to Jon in the Buried?</p><p>"I guess that would be alright." Martin said hesitantly.</p><p>"Really?" Jon said, sounding relieved.</p><p>"Really," Martin confirmed. He could feel his heart beating so quickly. Was he shaking? Martin couldn't believe what just happened. He turned and headed to do the one thing he knew would calm him down, making tea.</p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <span>Art by @d0ntblink182 on Tumblr</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Martin was nervous. Tonight was the night him and Jon were going on a… Well they were going out, Martin wasn’t sure if it was a date or not. He wasn’t even sure if he wanted it to be a date. Just when he had finally given up, Jon asked him out on this ambiguous dinner. And of course he waited two months before scheduling the actual event. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin checked his watch, figuring now was as good a time as any to go. He would be 10-20 minutes early - but he couldn’t stand waiting around the house for another minute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m heading out, Michael.” Martin called, head pressed against Michael’s door. He waited for a few seconds but didn’t receive a reply. Michael had seemed more and more withdrawn ever since Jon and Daisy had exited the coffin. He didn’t even show up to work some days, claiming to be sick. Martin was starting to get worried. He briefly considered knocking, but turned away. Michael would tell him in his own time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Martin reached the restaurant he was surprised to see Jon already standing outside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re early.” Martin remarked. Jon was wearing a white button-down, a vest, and a blazer. His long brown hair in a half-bun. Martin felt a little underdressed, wearing only a dress shirt and nice slacks.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So are you,” Jon said looking amused. Martin should have expected him to dress up, it was Jonathan Sims after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well since we’re both here, why don’t we head inside.” Martin suggested. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Jon said before turning around. Martin followed him into the restaurant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Table for two?” The hostess asked the duo.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right this way.” The hostess led Jon and Martin towards a table. It was off to the side next to a window and had a single rustic-looking light hanging from the ceiling. Jon took a seat first and Martin sat across from him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Someone will be right with you.” The hostess said before leaving the two alone. The restaurant was pretty much empty. Not many people knew about it, apparently. What had Jon called it? A hidden gem.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a nice place, how did you find out about it?” Martin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well… I uh… It just came to me.” Jon said, looking a little nervous. Martin gave him a quizzical look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Eye told you where we should go on our da- dinner?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose. And you can call it a date, Martin. No need to pretend it’s not.” Jon replied, surprising Martin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Isn’t it illegal to date your boss? HR’s going to have a field day.” Martin mumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We blew up a building and got our boss thrown in jail. I don’t think it’ll matter that we went on a date. Also, didn’t you burn statements?” Jon asked, raising his eyebrow. Martin blushed in embarrassment.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, sorry, forgot that rules don’t really apply to us anymore.” Martin said. Jon laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s nice to forget every now and again. Forget all the things trying to-” Jon’s eyes suddenly started glowing a bright green and he stopped talking. Martin gasped in surprise. He had never seen Jon like this before. In a second it was over and Jon’s eyes were back to their normal brown colour.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What was th-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Michael.” Jon interrupted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What about him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know where he is?” Jon asked, growing frantic.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Home?” Martin said unsure. What happened to Michael?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No.” Jon said he looked exhausted. “I think he’s gone back to the Spiral.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?!” Martin exclaimed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>        Michael was sitting in his room, if it could even be considered that at this point. There wasn’t anything in it. No bed, no desk, nothing. It was essentially an empty void made of neon colours, all swirling around each other. There was still a door though. Well more like doors, plural. He wasn’t sure where all of them went exactly, but at least they were solid.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ever since his meeting with Helen, Michael’s fingers had gotten longer and longer, until they stood at the same length and point as her’s. He had to take many days off of work just to sit in his slowly deteriorating room in agonizing pain. At that point, he had to accept that he would never be Michael Shelley again. After that he was able to control the changes. He was able to create an illusion that he still looked the same as before - and his colleagues were none the wiser, not even the Archivist. He was able to go into work as normal. But that didn’t stop the guilt. The terrible guilt that he was deceiving his friends and everyone who trusted him.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He heard a faint voice say “I’m heading out, Michael.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had to be Martin. Michael wanted to respond, but doubted Martin would be able to hear him. Martin was the one person who trusted him the most and he was deceiving the man with his very presence. He felt like a parasite leaching off his good faith. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, isn’t this fun!” Helen said, gleefully stepping through one of the doors.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was wondering when you’d appear.” Michael said with a sigh. He stood up and walked over to Helen. They stood at the same height now. They looked almost identical, down to their long spindly fingers. The only difference was Helen’s large smile compared to Michael’s deep frown.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Come on cheer up, you can finally relax and be yourself. We can be a family, I know how much you’ve always dreamed of having a family. Unlike those other people, unlike Gertrude Robinson, I will never betray you.” Helen said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re literally the epitome of betrayal through deceit.” Michael folded his arms, though it wasn’t exactly easy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>We</span>
  </em>
  <span> are the epitome of betrayal through deceit.” Helen corrected.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let’s just go home.” Michael said after a couple seconds of silence.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was waiting for you to say that.” Helen said, sounding excited. She started to head towards the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going first.” Michael insisted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helen stopped, turned, and smiled. “Right.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael walked cautiously towards the right door, hearing its call like a siren. Come home, it hissed, we’ve missed you, it seemed to say. Michael pushed the door open and stepped inside. He was overcome with a feeling of relief. He had been lost for so long. In pain, in fear, but now now he knew he was right back where he needed to be. He could already feel the fear of Helen’s latest victims. She had been a busy Distortion.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael turned to Helen as she was closing the door to his room and smiled for the first time in months. “You did all this for me?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Helen returned the smile and pulled Michael into an embrace. “Of course, brother.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael was finally home.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon sat at his desk feeling tired and weary. They had lost Michael. How could he have been so blind? He had seen the Spirals' influence on Michael the first day they met; and yet, he had never looked further into it. After that first day, he had been so caught up on his own loss of humanity - he had missed Michael’s. Jon Knew everything now; but it was already too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll just be on the lookout for Michael and take him out if he ever messes with us, just like any other Monster.” Basira reasoned. Martin looked exasperated. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, we have to help him. It’s not his fault he got taken by the Spiral, again. What if it was Daisy that had been kidnapped?” Martin said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If he </span>
  <em>
    <span>had</span>
  </em>
  <span> been kidnapped, that would be a different story. You said he went willingly, right Jon?” Basira asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes,” Jon said. “He was scared and in pain. He hid it from us well, but the Spiral was doing a number on him. It was all a part of Helen’s plan.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So Helen’s responsible for all this?” Martin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“She played us from the beginning.” Jon replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I knew we shouldn’t have let Michael hang around. You guys should have listened to me.” Basira said with a shake of her head.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s not his fault. He was played just like the rest of us.” Martin countered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How so?” Basira said, crossing her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Bringing Michael here. Allowing us to get close to him but not close enough we’d get suspicious when the changes started. He felt like he couldn’t tell us in fear we’d betray him. The threats definitely weren’t helping with that.” Jon gave Basira a pointed look. “We were just as much a part of his torture as she was.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “That’s so manipulative. Are we sure Helen isn’t actually from the Web?” Martin questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As interesting as that would be, no, I don’t think so. The fears aren’t as clear cut as we’d like to think they are. Even though manipulation is part of the Web’s domain, there are a decent number of the Spiral’s signature tricks in this.” Jon said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, thanks for letting me know we’re down one Archival Assistant and up one Avatar of the Spiral. I’m going to get back to work now.” Then Basira was gone. Martin sank into one of the chairs across from Jon and looked at him with sad eyes. Jon felt his heart tug at just that look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are we going to do now, Jon?” Martin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t think there’s anything we can do.” Jon confessed. “Just wait for Michael to make his appearance, then try to reason with him I suppose. I do recommend we keep an eye out for Helen as well. She might have completed this step of her plan, but I’m sure there are more.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Martin said, looking dejected. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sorry Martin.” Jon said at a near whisper. He didn’t know what else to do. He felt so helpless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Not your fault, Jon.” Martin said. He stood up from his chair and walked out the door. Then Jon was all alone.</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Michael opened the door excitedly. Helen said she had a surprise for him and he was very interested in seeing what exactly it was. He looked around at first, confused. Was this some sort of watch tower?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s the Panopticon from that old prison. You remember the one.” Helen elaborated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But why bring me here?” Michael asked, intrigued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For this, Jonah Mangus’s body.” Helen said. She pointed to a lump in the middle of the Panopticon. Michael hadn’t even noticed it when he stepped inside.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is Jonah Magnus’s body?” Michael repeated, inspecting the corpse. “But where are the eyes?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think you know.” Helen teased. Michael thought for a couple of minutes and proceeded to put two and two together. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> why Elias was acting strange! I had wondered how a lazy stoner became the prim and proper head of the Institute.” He said with a laugh that reverberated across the room longer than it should have. “So what do we do now, oh Helen Distortion?” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, we use this information to our advantage of course, oh Michael Distortion.” Helen replied. And the two walked arm in arm through a sparkling green doorway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span> Martin hadn’t seen anyone for over a month, he had been throwing himself into his work with the Extinction. Without Michael’s presence, he found himself slipping more and more into the Lonely. Michael had been there for Martin when no one else had - but now he was gone. Martin felt abandoned. He knew Jon still cared. Jon had tried to find him a number of times, but Martin was well versed in the art of avoiding people. Martin was scared. Scared that Jon would abandon him. Just like Michael. Just like Sasha. Just like Tim. Just like his mother. Martin was destined to be alone. He knew that now. Michael leaving had opened his eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though Martin still wanted Jon to be safe; the world too frankly, so he would do what he could one last time to save the world. Then that would be it. Martin wasn’t sure what exactly would happen after he stopped the extinction - but he knew at that point he would be too far in the Lonely to really care. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin looked up as he heard the sound of footsteps walking down the hall. Someone's grandfather was making his way down the halls of the Institute. He looked a little lost. Martin walked over to the door and peeked his head out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Um, excuse me sir, sorry, but you can’t actually be here.” Martin called.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, not to worry! I seem to be doing all right so far.” The elderly man replied. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, you see… this area is actually off limits to the public, so…” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And quite right, too! Goodness, the things they could learn here! Turn your hair white, eh?” The man said with a laugh. Martin looked at him confused. How would he know that? “Best to keep them out, I say.” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Who are you? Did Peter send you?” He asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ah! You must be Martin. Goodness, he was not exaggerating.” The man said, stepping inside the office. He walked over to the desk and flipped through some of the papers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Martin asked as the man turned back towards him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh, come now, don’t be like that. Let’s start over. Simon. Simon Fairchild. Peter asked me to look in on you and have a small chat. Well, a big chat, really. Answer all those… nagging questions.” Simon introduced holding out his hand as if waiting for a shake. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Simon Fairchild?” Martin laughed nervously. Simon dropped his hand, unphased that Martin didn’t want to shake hands. “Wait, Simon Fairchild, as in-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“As in, all those people who said I did horrible things to them and their loved ones? Yes! They have been in, haven’t they? I’d hate to think I’m underrepresented in here. Not when Peter tells me that that bone fellow has at least half a dozen.”  Simon grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, no! Not, not at all. You, you’ve sent plenty of people our way.” Martin said laughing nervously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Brilliant! So. Shall we get started?” Simon said he sounds eager. Started on what? Martin wasn’t sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry?  I’m still not entirely clear what’s going on. What are you doing here?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see! I suppose it was a bit much to expect him to have filled you in on everything already. I mean in many ways that’s the point.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right,” Martin agreed hesitantly</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “So. You’ve been working with Peter for a while now, correct?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sure,” </span>
</p><p>
  <span> “And he’s been promising you answers to all those difficult questions?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose,” Peter hadn’t exactly been forthcoming on anything, really.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well, that’s me.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What?” Martin asked still confused</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, well, you have to understand how it is with Peter. He finds talking to people directly very difficult. Especially explaining the more, um, esoteric side of things? Charming chap, I’m sure you agree, absolutely lovely, but even if you can convince him to actually give you a straight answer, he’s just not that good at actually putting these things into words. Something to do with his upbringing, I think. I’m pretty sure he was home-schooled, you know!” Simon said looking taken aback at the very prospect. This man was nothing if not eccentric, Martin thought to himself. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, he sends you to answer questions because he doesn’t want to?” Martin clarified.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Precisely!” </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And you do it? Why?” Martin asked, wondering about Simon’s connection to Peter.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is that your first question?”  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there a limit?” Martin retorted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Only until I get bored. And that does tend to come more quickly these days.” Simon said, feigning exhaustion. Martin thought about it for a second, walking over and taking a seat at the desk. Simon turned to face him but remained standing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay, okay then, sure, sure. First question, then. Why are you helping Peter? Don’t you serve different, you know, fears?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span> “Well, now… See, that’s actually two questions. The answer to the first is simple. I lost a bet, and this is how the good Captain chooses to use that. The second is… sort of? I mean – yes, if you want to get technical, he serves the One Alone and I serve the Falling Titan, but those two are a lot closer than you might imagine. After all, the larger the space you find yourself alone in, the more isolated you feel.” Simon said. Martin wondered if there was any overlap between the Spiral and the Vast. He couldn’t think of anything off the top of his head but he could feel the curiosity bubble up. If Simon Fairchild knew Peter Lukas, maybe he also knew some of the other Avatars. Martin imagined Simon and Helen sitting down to have a cup of tea. He held back a laugh. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin knew he had the Extinction to deal with, but maybe... just maybe, it would be better with Michael’s help. And now he had a fear avatar in front of him waiting to answer any questions he asked. Martin couldn’t abandon Michael. And that’s what he was doing. Giving up. But no more. Now was the time to fight. Fight for his friends. Fight for Jon. He wasn’t afraid anymore.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Were those your only questions? I was expecting to talk a bit more but I’m not complaining if I get to leave early.” Simon said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you know anything about the Distortion?” Martin asked, trying to sound casual.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It Is Not What It Is?” Simon said with a frown. “That’s a random thing to ask. I’d think you’d know better than me, seeing as it currently resides in your tunnels.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“My tunnels? The tunnels under the Institute?” Martin said slowly suddenly remembering that that’s where Helen was. He stood up suddenly, knowing where he needed to go next. He couldn’t believe Michael had been under his nose this entire time. “I need to go. Tell Peter you paid off your debt to him and that he probably won’t see me again for a little while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright,” Simon replied, looking baffled. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin stormed out of the office, headed in the direction of the tunnels. In the direction of Michael.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Melanie was gone, removed her eyes to escape the horrors. Martin was nowhere to be found, lost in the Lonely. Daisy was looking worse and worse as the days wore on, unable to satiate the thirst for the hunt. It seemed like Jon and Basira were the only ones still operating at full capacity. Though Jon knew that wasn’t 100% true. He was starting to feel weaker as he continued to resist the urge to take Statements. Jon shuddered thinking about that poor woman he had forcefully taken a statement from. When she had come to lodge a complaint, Rosie had sent her to Basira. Basira had given him quite an earful after that. Jon knew he was walking on thin ice around her.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Trevor and Julia were still lurking around the Institute. When Jon went home yesterday, in the middle of the night, they had ambushed him. They managed to graze his arm. The wound closed slower than when he had tried to cut his finger - but heal, it did. Jon glanced at the spot on his arm. Another scar to add to the collection. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon stared at the notebook and computer on his desk, not really seeing anything. It was useless. Jon had been searching through these things for the past two months, maybe three. Did time really mean anything? The Eye decided to inform him that it had been 3 months and 16 days. Thanks Eye.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon looked at the 145th number in the notebook and tried to find any correlation between the number and the computer. Still nothing. The Eye happily reminded him of the date, but was conveniently silent when it came to this frustrating puzzle.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Basira asked, startling Jon. She was standing in the doorway watching him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Trying to figure out how to fix Michael.” Jon replied, his frustration leaking into his voice. Basira walked over to the desk and picked up the notebook. She scanned it quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“With this?” She asked, glancing up at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, it’s Gertrude’s notebook. It led me to a statement relating to the Spiral, but I could never actually read it. And I didn’t feel the need to since Michael was back. I had no idea what Helen had in store for us.” Jon explained. Basira nodded and looked back at the numbers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“These look like Gertrude’s tape numbers.” Basira commented. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon stood up sharply, surprised. “What?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I was the one that catalogued the tapes, remember? I’ve seen this form of numbering way too many times to forget.” Basira elaborated. Jon opened the desk drawer he remembered putting the tape with Eric’s statement in, pulling it out. He looked on the side and sure enough, there was a string of numbers matching the same sequence as in the notebook. Though there was something different. On the end of the string of numbers was a single letter. This one was M. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The key to deciphering the notebook is on the tapes!” Jon exclaimed in excitement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.” Basira said, smirking. Jon sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you Basira.” Jon said sadly. “I should have asked for your help sooner. I’m sorry. Will you help me now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I suppose we have some time. Maybe if we figure this out we can coax Martin out of the Lonely.” Basira suggested. Jon grinned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to go get those tapes.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon left his office with hope. Maybe things would turn out all right.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span> It took Jon and Basira all night to decode Gertrude’s notebook. They were missing two tapes, which Jon swore were on his desk before he went into the coma, but Basira claims otherwise. The words were encoded further, but Jon Knew right away what he had to do next. He quickly wrote out the letters he could See that didn’t involve the two missing tapes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing?” Basira asked. Jon looked up from his writing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This is a standard Caesar Cipher.” Jon explained. Basira folded her arms.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Obviously. But how do you know the number of letters the Alphabet’s been shifted by?” Basira questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It’s shifted by 6. So A is G, B is H, C is I, and so forth. Though The Eye just lets me see what the actual word is.” Jon explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Basira said. Jon went back to decoding. One of the missing letters had to be G which translates to A. That means the other missing letter is C which translates to W. “While you do that, I’m going to go get some coffee.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Tired?” Jon joked. Basira sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jon, it’s 2am. We’ve been working on this for 8 hours. I had actually been on my way out before I spoke with you.” Basira said with lighter than usual exasperation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh,” Jon said. He hadn’t even noticed, he didn’t feel tired whatsoever. “Bring me back some tea, Earl Grey, please?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Alright.” Basira said before she left. Jon got back to decoding. He finished the page and sat back to read.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>I managed to obtain Research Distortione Defendatur. It seems to have been written by one of Leitner’s assistants, but the author’s name has been rubbed off. It describes possible rituals the Spiral might enact. But there seems to be a way to stop them, a map. If taken to the heart of the Spiral’s Domain will bind that person to the Living Distortion. If the Spiral tries to destroy that person, then the Distortion will be trapped in its Domain, no longer able to manifest physically in our world. I think Michael would be the perfect person for the job. He is still naive about the fears. He will trust me.    </span>
  </em>
  
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Oh, Gertrude, what did you do?</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Jon sat in his office at 6 in the morning. Basira had left hours ago, exhausted. Jon felt a little guilty for making her stay up so long. They had managed to transcribe the entire notebook. It listed all of Gertrude’s exploits up until late 2012 from her perspective. Becoming the Archivist, interacting with the fears, stopping the rituals, losing her assistants, meeting Gerry, all of it - and then it just stopped. One moment she was talking about Gerry’s idiotic attempt to burn a book inside the Archives, then nothing. Had Elias found out about the Notebook? Gerry? There was no way to know. However, now they knew what happened to Michael. He was linked to the Distortion in the same way Gertrude had been linked to Agnes. Michael could never escape, he could never be free as long as he was alive.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jon!” A voice called, startling him out of his thoughts. Peter Lukas walked briskly into Jon’s office.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mr. Lukas, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting you yet. To what do I owe this honor?” Jon asked sarcastically.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin’s missing.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I believe you’re the reason for that.” Jon said bitterly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No-” Peter denied. “It took me a while to track down Simon again but when I finally did, he said that Martin had asked about the Spiral then went down into the tunnels. That was a month ago.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin’s been lost in the tunnels for a month!? Why didn’t you tell me the second you knew he was gone?” Jon snapped, irritated. He yanked open the drawer in which he kept his torches. There were only two in there when he knew he had three. When had the other gone missing? A month ago? How had Martin even gotten into Jon’s office without him knowing? He shook his head; no time to think about that now. He stood up and grabbed his coat, putting it on quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So you’ll help me find him?” Peter asked, avoiding Jon’s question.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m going to find him. You can follow if you’d like. If anything happened to Martin though, you’ll be the next to go missing.” Jon threatened heading out the door at a near sprint.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>    Martin wasn’t sure how long he had been wandering the tunnels. An hour? A day? A week? Time had no meaning here. These tunnels had fully and completely become one with the Spiral. For all Martin knew he had been here two weeks, just like the time he and Tim had gotten lost in Michael’s halls. This definitely gave Martin a sense of </span>
  <span>déjà vu</span>
  <span>. Although the halls had certainly been more colourful. He wasn’t sure if this was an upgrade or a down-</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Was that a door? Martin stopped walking and turned his torch onto the suspect item. It was a door! This was it. What Martin had come for. He walked hesitantly up to the door. What if Helen answered instead? That would be awkward. He gathered his courage and knocked. Thankfully, it was Michael who greeted him. He looked a little different than the last time Martin had seen him. His fingers were long and pointy, his hair seemed to have grown and now reached his knees, he was wearing a shiny silver jumpsuit with a long v-neck collar. His presence seemed a lot more imposing. Martin hadn’t really realized how shy Michael had been until now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello there Martin, fancy seeing you here.” Michael said giggling. “Want to come in?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No, thanks.” Martin declined. “Could we please speak out here.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t see why not.” Michael said, stepping out into the tunnels. He left the door open and the light illuminated the passageway.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did this happen, Michael?” Martin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I feel safe in there, Martin. I don’t have to hide myself in there. I can be unequivocally me.” Michael admitted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That’s not you though. I got to see you Michael, the real you.” Martin insisted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“That wasn’t me. Not really. That was the fear, the fear of ridicule, the fear of loneliness. I wanted you to like me. I wanted society to like me. So I conformed to all their ridiculous social contracts and spent hours worrying that I would be discovered. But in there, it doesn’t matter if I want to wear a skirt, or if I like guys, or if I show an ounce of emotion besides anger. I don’t have to worry about money, or hunger, or pain.” Michael pleaded with Martin. He wanted to understand, but it was hard. Martin too knew what it was like feeling excluded from society; but was it really worth his humanity?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You won’t be human though - and you’ll have to feed on innocent people. I don’t want to see you turn into what you were before.” Martin pleaded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But here’s the thing: I'm not 100% the Distortion anymore, that’s Helen. I get a choice on what I eat. I could sustain myself on the liars, cheaters, and billionaires.” Michael said, his voice raising in excitement. Martin didn’t know what to say. He couldn’t help but want Michael back. He had come all this way. It felt like losing Michael all over again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you won’t come back, Michael?” Martin asked, tears threatening to spill.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t even if I wanted to, Martin. Gertrude she - well… she tied me to the Spiral. The only way to sever that link is to kill me.” Michael informed him. Martin took a step back in shock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I told you I know where we’re going.” A voice insisted. Martin recognized that voice, it was Jon. He spun around and shone his torch down the hall. Jon was standing a little ways down the hall next to… Peter Lukas?!</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin!” Jon ran towards him until he was right in front of Martin.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Jon- What are you doing down here?” Martin questioned, confused.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I came to find you. You’ve been gone over a month!” Jon informed him. Martin was shocked. He certainly didn’t think he had been gone that long. He hadn’t ate or drank or slept; it seemed impossible.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin, good to see you.” Peter said, awkwardly walking up to stand next to Jon.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure it is.” Martin said, sarcastically. “After all, you sent Simon Fairchild to see me rather than explain things yourself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Martin, come on, you know how I feel about- well- people.” Peter said, his face scrunching up in disgust.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right, right, well I hope you're having a blast now.” Martin said, snidely. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I see you found Michael.” Jon said, looking over at him. “I actually have some bad news for you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I already told him Jon. I beat you to the punch, as the saying goes." Michael said with a laugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm sorry, Martin." Jon apologized.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hold on! Not only did Gertrude sacrifice her assistant to an embodiment of fear, she also made it so he could never be at peace? ...The Spiral will never let you die for fear of whatever consequences will happen after the link is severed... You'll be stuck like this forever." Martin said, concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I've made my peace with it." Michael said with a sad smile. "Maybe you should too."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Isn’t that interesting." Peter spoke up reminding Martin he was there. Martin turned to look over at him. Peter whipped out a knife from his pocket. Martin took a step back in alarm. "So if I kill him, not only will I get my revenge; I’ll be getting rid of the Distortion too - at least for a little while."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael bursts into laughter, the tunnels echoing with it. Martin had to cover his ears. They felt like they were bleeding.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t laugh at me! I had a plan. It was a great plan too. Martin was so close to the Lonely, I barely had to do anything to push him over the edge. But then </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> showed up and suddenly Martin had a friend.” Peter sneered. “I tried to separate you two as much as I could; but did it work? No- no, it didn’t. I’m never going to hear the end of this from Elias. He’s going to gloat for hours. This is the first time I’ve been able to attempt a ri- uh… Anyway, you ruined my plan, now I’m going to kill you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Peter lunged at Michael. Michael side-stepped and Peter rammed into the wall, jamming his knife. He pulled and pulled, attempting to remove it - but it was stuck. Peter let go of the knife as it slowly was absorbed by the wall.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Trying to kill me in my own domain?" Michael said, his tone very patronizing."How… juvenile."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Peter Lukas," Jon walked over towards this man,  his eyes glowing a soft green. Peter looked like he was trying to act unafraid but it wasn't really working. "</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me your plan."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>“I already did.” Peter said nervously, backing away. Jon growled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Tell me what you’re hiding.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"I- It’s been a while since I attempted a ritual for the Lonely, the last one foiled by Gertrude Robinson. Elias had told me about the Panopticon where I could successfully enact a ritual for the Lonely... all I needed was someone with ties to both of our domains. I wasn't sure where to find such a person. Then Elias contacted me again, this time to say that one of the Archival Assistants seemed to be leaning heavily into the Lonely. It was almost like a dare. Come and make your attempt if you can. He was taunting me. He didn’t think I could do it. All I had to do was make up some lie to lure Martin into the depth of the Lonely, then bring him to the Panopticon. Oh, and make him kill Elias - I thought that was going to be the hardest part. But then </span>
  <em>
    <span>he </span>
  </em>
  <span>had to ruin it." Peter confessed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're welcome," Michael said, blowing Peter a kiss.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm going to kill you." Peter grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The Panopticon. So that's what it's called." Jon said. Martin looked at him confused. His eyes were still glowing green. "I know where it is."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What is the Panopticon, Jon?" Martin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It’s a tall tower in the center of the Prison with cells circling around it. It currently houses Jonah Magnus's body." Jon explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Tell him about the eyes, tell him about the eyes." Michael said, sounding excited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon’s eyes were downcast not quite meeting Martin’s. He looked so, very, tired.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The real Elias is little more than a helpless victim of Jonah's scheme. The man we've been thinking is Elias is actually Jonah Magnus."</span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning; Murder and Character Death.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Michael listened with anticipation as The Archivist revealed the truth about the Panopticon. He felt like he was watching his favorite soap opera. Has he ever watched a Soap Opera? Probably not. Though he imagined this is what it would feel like.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"This is too much information for today. I just want to go back up to the surface, make a cup of tea, and process." Martin said, sounding overwhelmed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think we should go see the body." The Archivist suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What? Why?" Martin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe we could try to burn it. It might sever the connection."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin looked hesitant. "Maybe. Did you bring anything to burn a body with?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have this." The Archivist pulled out a lighter that had a web pattern on it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Do you think that little lighter will be enough to burn a human corpse?" Martin questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Doesn't hurt to try." The Archivist replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well let's be off!" Michael said. He was excited to see where this would go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Okay, let's do this." The Archivist took the lead with everyone following behind. Peter did not look happy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael still found it funny that Peter Lukas had been trying to enact a ritual and he ended up stopping it. That's when he realized something - he was touched by The Eye the same way Martin was. Did that mean he could start the ritual of the Spiral by killing Mr. Magnus and taking his place in the Panopticon? A world of the Spiral... along with the other fears as well, unfortunately. He imagined them each having their own little pockets, tucked away neatly within the vast expanse of endless hallways. All his friends getting their own domain. Martin watching over the Lonely. The Archivist the Eye. Michael, ruler of everything - he quite liked the sound of that. But could he really go through with it? Michael frowned. He didn’t know. Could he really be the monster that destroyed the world? He knew his friends probably wouldn’t like that. And there was, of course, all those innocent people who probably wouldn’t like to be tortured for all of eternity. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael glanced at Martin who was wringing his hands, giving away his nervous feelings.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you okay, Martin?” Michael asked him. “Nervous about seeing the body of who’s really been leading the Institute?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can’t believe my boss is a body snatcher!” Martin exclaimed. Michael laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do you think The Archivist could do something like that?” Michael asked, curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I hope not. I like Jon just the way he is.” Martin replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m glad to hear that.” The Archivist said, chuckling lightly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t eavesdrop.” Martin requested playfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Sorry, sorry,”The Archivist apologized. Martin turned his head to hide a smile. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael raised his eyebrow. “You guys seem in good moods for two people about to burn a corpse.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m just glad Martin is back.” The Archivist said. Michael was glad to be a part of this loving moment. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tunnel opened into the cell block on the ground floor. The Panopticon stood in the center, towering over everything. The group ascended the staircase. When they finally reached the top Elias was standing in the center, filing his nails. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ve been waiting for all of you. I am a very busy man you know.” Elias said. Though technically Michael knew it was actually Jonah Magnus they were in the presence of. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here, Elias?” Peter asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why, I’m here to see you, Peter.” Elias said. “It seems you won’t be completing your plan anytime soon. I’m surprised he even believed you about the so-called Extinction. Now that you’ve lost, I expect you to hold up your end of our bargain.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“This isn’t fair, Elias.” Peter grumbled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you refusing, Peter? Do you really want to go against me?” Elias hissed, taking a step forward.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What? What’s this bargain about? What’s going on?” Martin questioned. Michael was also intrigued.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do be quiet Martin, you’re the reason I’m in this mess.” Peter growled. He walked over to The Archivist and grabbed his arm. Michael narrowed his eyes. He didn’t like this. “This might hurt a bit.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael strode over and put his hand on Peter’s shoulder. “Going anywhere?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wow, a two for one bonus. Do it, Peter.” Elias insisted. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly, Michael heard the grossest sound he had ever had the misfortune to hear. He whipped around, letting go of Peter. Helen was standing there with her hands sticking out of Elias’s head. He was dead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I couldn’t let that go on any longer.” Helen said, extracting her fingers. Elias’s body fell to the floor. </span>
</p><p>
  <b>
    <em>CRASH! BANG! THUMP! THUMP!</em>
  </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Loud sound after loud sound could be heard right above the tunnels. Elias’s death had triggered something inside the Institute.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Why did you kill him?” The Archivist asked, stunned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If Peter Lukas had taken you with him into the Lonely, you would be ready to be a key to the Eyepocolypse. I didn’t fancy finding myself bowing down to anyone, especially not this sad excuse for a man.” Helen said, pointing to the more recent of the two corpses. Was this really part of Helen’s Plan? Maybe this was simple Plan B after Michael didn’t make any move to kill Elias and start the Spiral Ritual. He wasn’t sure. Anything could be possible, they were the Spiral after all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Eyepocolypse? I’m the key to the Eye’s ritual?” The Archivist questioned, surprised. “How did you even find out about it?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I have my ways,” Helen laughed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And I can make you tell me.” The Archivist threatened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“The Eye is so annoying. See- this is why I did it, so I don’t have to deal with this anymore.” Helen groaned. “I was newly minted Helen thinking about what I was going to do with Michael, so I came here to think- and let’s just say Elias shouldn’t have been talking about his evil plans aloud, even when he thinks he’s alone. You never know who’s listening.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How didn’t he know you were there?” The Archivist questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There are certain, shall we say, blindspots in his all-seeing vision. My hallways are one such blindspot. As long as I don’t step inside the Institute, I can still listen in.” Helen revealed. “Happy now?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes. Thank you, Helen.” The Archivist said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"We should probably go see what that noise was." Martin suggested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But first," The Archivist pulled out his lighter. "let's make sure Jonah is actually dead."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you going to burn Elias’s body too?" Martin asked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Better safe than sorry." The Archivist said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"But what if Elias is in there?" Martin protested.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"His mind is probably a puddle of mush by now." Michael consoled.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're not helping." Martin said, shaking his head. Helen walked over to stand next to Michael, giving The Archivist some room.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Archivist bent over Jonah's body. He held the lighter up to the corpse’s hair. When he clicked it, a roaring fire erupted and engulfed it in flames. The Archivist jumped back in surprise. Michael looked around and saw Martin had taken a step back too. Peter Lukas was nowhere to be seen; Michael figured he had disappeared into the Lonely.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The Archivist walked over and did the same to Elias’s body. This time he stayed a decent distance away. Soon it went up in flames too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That's definitely not a normal lighter." Martin commented, coughing. Michael was a little worried about how his lungs were doing with all the smoke.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Let's get out of here. Helen, Michael, and I might be able to handle the smoke but you can’t, Martin." The Archivist said. He handed Martin his jacket, and he used it to cover his face. Everyone headed out of the Panopticon and into tunnels. The Archivist and Martin took the lead while Michael hung back to talk to Helen.</span>
</p><p>
  <span> "How much of this was planned?" Michael asked. Helen just laughed. Michael pouted. It didn't take very long for them to reach the exit.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I hope everyone's okay." Martin said, sounding worried.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Martin... You should prepare yourself for the worst outcome." The Archivist warned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like… Basira and Daisy… dead?" Martin said, looking like he might cry. The Archivist sighed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"That is a possibility." The Archivist said, gravely. Martin nodded. Michael was glad Martin and The Archivist were both safely in the tunnels. The Archivist walked over to the hatch and tugged on it. It doesn’t budge. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Martin can take my door out of here, but the Archivist cannot." Helen offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What!? Why can't you let Jon through?" Martin questioned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"His power could possibly cause my hallways to explode. That would definitely be bad for me." Helen explained.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Just like with the Black Sun." The Archivist contemplated. "Even though Elias is dead and it seems like the Institute has been reduced to rubble, I'm still the Archivist."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Correct," Helen said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll stay with The Archivist and help him out of here. Alright, Martin?" Michael offered.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you, Michael." Martin smiled at him before walking through Helen’s purple door. Then it was just Michael and the Archivist.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Michael was able to push the hatch open and a lot of rubble fell through, slowly piling up. He then pushed it aside and allowed more to pile up. He continued to do this until the exit was cleared.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Thank you Michael for your help, I got it from here." The Archivist said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Take care of him, alright?” Michael pleaded.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I will.” Jon agreed. Michael created a door and turned to leave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Wait, Michael.” Jon said and Michael stopped. “Will we ever see you again?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll see, Jon,” Michael said smiling sadly. “We’ll see.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>With that Michael was gone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>~~~</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon climbed through the hatch. He knew if he was still human, he would be covered in scratches. The whole Institute had been reduced to nothing. Jon couldn’t help but feel sad at the loss of what he had considered a second home. Sure, there had been a lot of terrifying encounters on these premises, but it was familiar. He honestly couldn't explain what he was feeling. Perhaps he was just inheriting the feelings of the Eye, mourning its source of nutrients. Jonah's will was the only thing holding the place together. The building definitely wasn't up to code. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon stepped out of what remained of the building, greeted by the sounds of Police Sirens and Ambulances. He saw Martin talking to Daisy and Basira. He noticed Jon and began to walk over.  </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jon! You're finally out. Are you okay?" Martin asked, checking Jon over for injuries.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm fine, Martin." Jon replied.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm glad." Martin said, grinning. Then he frowned. "Where's Michael?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"He had to go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Will we see him again?” Martin asked, concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’m sure he’ll be around.” Jon reasoned. Martin nodded his head thoughtfully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Jon," Basira called walking over to the two of them. "Martin told us what happened. Elias is really dead?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes," Jon confirmed. He Knew that Jonah Magnus was gone from this world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'll just leave you two to talk." Martin conceded. He walked over to speak with Rosie.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that mean we’re no longer tied to the Eye?” Basira asked. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes… You are no longer tied to the Eye.” Jon said, his voice sad. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Does that mean you could do what Elias did? Create your own Institute?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I guess,” Jon speculated. “But I won't, I promise.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“If I ever find out you’ve been terrorizing people and attempting a ritual, I’ll be the one to end your life.” Basira threatened.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Understood.” Jon said, holding his hands up in surrender. Basira nods before heading over to talk to Daisy, leaving Jon alone with his thoughts. He was still the Archivist - but there were no more Archives. He didn’t want to rebuild the Institute after everything that happened; but did that mean he was just free to do whatever he liked? The future wasn’t exactly something he could Behold... and he wasn’t sure whether he liked that or not.</span>
</p><p>
  <b>The End</b>
</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>